


tattooed roses

by eyeronicmuch



Series: flowers & dystopias [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Future, Ambiguous/Open Ending, M/M, lots of pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-30 02:23:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20806955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyeronicmuch/pseuds/eyeronicmuch
Summary: Feelings are a funny thing, the more Sicheng realizes he likes Yuta, the more he ignores them. Pushes them down into a bottomless pit, and hopes for them to never resurface ever again.Fear is even funnier. Sicheng pretends that their talk didn’t happen. That their relationship isn’t developing. He’s good at being oblivious. All because he’s afraid.But System, is Yuta making it hard for him.





	tattooed roses

**Author's Note:**

> hello!  
this is a spin-off to [peach blossoms](%E2%80%9C), and i suggest you read it first because you may not understand some things that are going on in the universe ;;

Sicheng doesn’t know how he ends up here. He remembers running away, running away until _they_ couldn’t reach him anymore, and now he’s on unknown territory. He looks around. It’s… bright. Very bright. It’s different. The ground is different. The architecture is different. 

Everything’s old. That’s Sicheng’s first thought. There are no holographic ads, no jet-cars, no teleportation units. It’s almost scary. The buildings are all antique, seemingly from the last two centuries and falling apart, but the catch? They’re colourful. That’s right, for the first time in Sicheng’s life, he sees colour. He’s overwhelmed, in a good way, in an artist’s way. 

He wants to draw. He wants to capture the vivid colours, to ingrain them not only in his memory but also for others to see, but he left his drawing pad and pencil in his apartment, and he can’t return. He can never return anymore. 

Sicheng simply looks. The weather is nice, as nice as grey cloudy weather can get. It’s a bit dark in this place, Sicheng notices, then realizing that he’s located right under the Higher Level. 

“Ah.” Sicheng says. He must be in the Lower Level then. His insides churn a little. He was ordered to depict the Lower as colourless to scare the public eye, and so Sicheng did. Followed the orders. But not anymore. 

He doesn’t know where to go.

He’s all alone. It finally kicks in, that he left his family, his career, his stable simple life behind, forever. Probably labeled as a criminal, as a wanted individual on police’s Devices, however Sicheng knows he’s no criminal, but an oppressed artist who only wanted freedom. Nonetheless he’s terrified. He’s very scared. 

“You alright?”

Sicheng yelps. He sees a man looming over him, tall and curious.

“Please don’t arrest me! I did nothing wrong!” He helplessly says.

The man laughs. “Relax, dude. I’m no police officer. Are you a runaway?”

Sicheng relaxes a little bit. “Um, yeah, kinda. You?”

“Sweet. Me too. What’s your name?”

Sicheng hesitates a little – no – a lot, before answering. What if the man’s lying? What if he’ll get taken away? But then he thinks. He has nothing to lose anymore except his life now, does he?

“Sicheng.” He replies. 

The man extends his hand for a handshake, lips turning into a smile and cheeks dimpling. “Jaehyun.”

Sicheng shakes his hand timidly. He supposes this is where his new life begins. 

Jaehyun steadily takes Sicheng under his wing. He shows Sicheng the beauty of the Lower, tells him that he’s safe here from the military and the System. Helps Sicheng adapt to the new environment of colours. They’re the same age, of the same backstory – somewhat – and so they easily become friends. 

“So what did you do up there?” Jaehyun asks while cooking dinner. 

“I used to draw.”

Jaehyun oohs. “Wow. Real nice. What’d you draw?”

“Posters, slogans, all that shit for the Party and for the System.”

Jaehyun winces. “Oof. Not real nice. Is that why you ran away?”

Sicheng nods. “Kind of.” He remembers how fast it happened – armed men storming into their office, arresting each and every member artist one by one, for spreading misinformation about the System. “We went against the System. The Party wanted explanations from our department, and our boss had only said that the System had it faults and that people should acknowledge them, to which the Confederate arrested everyone. Nearly everyone.” He relayed the information over to Jaehyun. “I ran away for my safety. I sought refuge in the darkest parts of the Higher, but when I saw my face on a wanted poster, my feet started running themselves. And somehow, I found myself here.”

“Wow.”

“Yes. And what about you?”

Jaehyun makes a grimace. “Similar story. Realized the System did more harm than good, but my father thought otherwise. We fought, and I escaped both him and the Higher. I left my favourite job behind, which sucks, but at least I brought a part of it with me.”

Sicheng nods. “What have you brought?”

Jaehyun smiles. “Seeds and a few potted plants.”

Days the Lower are smooth. At first, Sicheng takes his time exploring the underground city. He makes small talk with other runaways, with people whom the Higher call the Errored. It’s then, when Sicheng realizes he’s still bound to the System. That unnerves him a lot. 

However, the nights aren’t smooth at all. For the first week, Sicheng can’t fall asleep until dawn, he lies in bed and thinks and thinks and thinks. What is going on up there? Is he still wanted? Are they going to find him? He stands up and goes to the balcony. The night sky is as starless as ever. 

“Can’t sleep?” Jaehyun asks, still half asleep.

“A lot on my mind.” Sicheng sighs. “I’m scared I guess.”

“Of what?”

“My future. Our future as runaways.” He puts his hands on the rails of the balcony, puts his head on them and closes his eyes. He listens to the loudness of the night – the honking of ancient cars, the sound of motorcycles and the chatter of people; it makes him smile slightly. It was always quiet in the Higher. Always. 

“Hm. I get that,” Jaehyun says. “It took me a while to get used to a completely new life as well. But trust me, there’s nothing to fear. You wanted to draw whatever you wanted, right? You can do that here.” He spears his arms wide and turns, smiling. “You have all the freedom to do so.”

That calms Sicheng down. “Thanks, Jaehyun,” he says, gratefully, “Let’s sleep now.”

Sicheng’s drawing quest starts and ends with one person. 

But before that, there was a problem with materials. 

“You mean there’s no digital art here? At all?”

“Nope.” Jaehyun shakes his head. “We’re a few centuries behind here. It’s either pencil and faux paper or paints and a canvas.”

Sicheng tries painting. He gets super impatient with mixing oils with each other so he leaves the canvas half blank. He didn’t know what to draw anyway. 

“I’m not getting the hang of it,” he complains.

“Relax. It’s called an artist’s block.” Jaehyun reassures. 

“Artist’s what?” He falls into thoughtful silence. 

“Block. Meaning you can’t find the inspiration to draw, like, the ideas don’t come to you.”

“Oh.” Sicheng says. “But they never come to me? I don’t know how to explain it, but I don’t know how to draw from my imagination anymore.” Sicheng confesses, to Jaehyun, finally to himself. “I think I once could, when I was little. My mom always said how often I drew the sun and the sky and those concrete jungles. But then I got a job, and I’ve only drawn by reference or by orders – never on my own – and I kind of lost the skill, I guess.” 

Sicheng sees Jaehyun frown. “That’s a shame. But if you’ve had a skill once, you can reacquire it. You just need inspiration, and ideas will come to you before you know it.”

“I don’t know.” Sicheng sighs. He never knows anything. 

“Hey, Jaehyun, are you an Errored?” Sicheng asks one evening. 

“I thought that was obvious. I am, why?”

“Well. You know I’m still bound to the System, right? I want to get rid of it.” Sicheng scratches the back of his neck, nervous for some reason. 

At that Jaehyun lights up. “Oh! I know the perfect person for that.”

He takes Sicheng to an underground surgery. “This is the only place where someone can make you an Errored, otherwise you do it yourself, which I don’t recommend. Yuta got the chip out of me, that legend.”

“Yuta?”

“Yeah. He’s the surgeon. You’ll meet him very soon.”

As if on cue, Yuta emerges from a room, smiling. Yuta has fiery red hair that stands out instantly and he’s wearing a long white lab coat that nearly reaches his calves. His hair is tied up into a ponytail, as messy as ponytails can get. His bangs cover most of his face and an array of piercings adorn his ears. Goggles sit on the top of his head, visibly worn out and clouded with smoke.

“Ah, Jaehyun," Yuta says. Sicheng notices he has a pretty smile. The one that makes one involuntarily smile back. One that’s uplifting and comforting, one that makes you melt. Sicheng realizes that he’s staring. “Haven’t seen you in ages!”

“Likewise,” Jaehyun says. “You look as tired as ever.”

Yuta laughs. “I get that a lot.”

Yuta’s laugh is pleasant too. Sicheng is a bit annoyed. How can someone’s laugh be so nice? It’s unfair.

“I brought a new client for you.” Jaehyun says. 

Yuta nods. “Pretty boy,” he turns to Sicheng, eyes twinkling, “what’s your name?”

Sicheng snaps out of it. “Uh. Sicheng.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Yuta.” Yuta extends his hand for a handshake. Sicheng sees that it’s robotic. It has steel bones and steel muscles, with little blue and red tubes that resemble veins. All that’s missing is skin. Or maybe not, maybe skinless android parts of a human body are in the trend nowadays. Sicheng really doesn’t know.

He bows in Yuta’s direction and shakes Yuta’s hand, wincing a little at the strength of his grip. 

“You’re here because you want to become an Errored, is that right?”

Sicheng nods.

“Are you one hundred percent completely, positively sure you want to go through with the procedure?”

Sicheng nods again.

“Splendid!” Yuta says, “I’m going to ask of you to sign this contract. About your safety, etcetera etcetera.” 

Sicheng takes a pen from Yuta’s pocket of his lab coat, scribbles down his signature. Yuta folds on the contract in half. “Actually, this is just for formalities. This business is illegal, anyway. Now, if you’ll take off your coat and follow me into that room over there,” Yuta points to a dimly lit room to the left. “I’ll be right there in a second.”

Sicheng does at he’s told. He hangs his coat and sits on a hard chair. It creaks under his weight and Sicheng is a little frightened. The room is quite eerie. There are no windows and a broken lamp hangs on the ceiling. The light flickers ominously and Sicheng gulps. 

Yuta is beside him in a moment. “Take off your shirt, too, please.”

As Sicheng bares his chest he sees Yuta fumble with his android arm. Yuta adjusts something near his wrist and suddenly a small blade pops up on his second finger.

“Are you..?”

“It’ll hurt just a little bit.” Yuta warns, but his eyes are kind and reassuring. He puts his human hand on Sicheng’s neck and moves it so Sicheng’s collarbone would be more exposed. His hand is warm.

“But don’t worry, it will be over in a flash.”

He presses the blade onto Sicheng’s skin, lightly at first, then harshly. It goes right through Sicheng’s flesh and Sicheng gasps. 

“Shhh.” Yuta says. “Just think of something while I take this chip out.

“Of what?” Sicheng is holding in his breath, the feeling of the cold blade inside him, the feeling of blood oozing out of him, the feeling of Yuta’s stare on him is swallowing him whole. 

Yuta thinks. “Hm. I don’t know, maybe roses or something?”

Sicheng inhales and exhales. Roses. He hasn’t ever seen a rose in real life. Barely remembers the rose petals from a book he once got the privilege to paint when he was a college student. Those petals have engraved himself into his memory for eternity. He glances at Yuta and his red hair while he distracts himself from the pain. Yuta looks a little like a rose. Just a little. It’s his red hair, that’s flowing and waving like upside down rose petals. Sicheng is staring again. Yuta taps his cheek.

“All done.” Another smile. “Wasn’t that scary now, was it?”

He doesn’t let Sicheng reply, and instead drops a small object into his palm. “It’s the chip that was placed in your body when you were born. Without it, you’re not bound to the System anymore.”

Sicheng stares at the little chip that’s stained with his own blood. It beeps in his palm. 

“Keep it safe,” Yuta says, “the beeping indicates that it’s still working, if you break it, the Party will know. Although – would it make a difference? You’re still wanted either way.” 

Sicheng frowns at Yuta’s words. Yuta speaks his mind, which is something Sicheng wasn’t taught to do; he was told to keep his thoughts to himself out of politeness and consideration, and Yuta currently doesn’t consider Sicheng’s position. To Yuta, Sicheng is just another patient. He’s probably dealing with tens of runaways daily. Sicheng thinks: did Yuta run away from something, too?

Silly question. Everyone runs from something.

“Don’t move yet,” Yuta whispers, too close to Sicheng for his liking, “I’m going to clean your wound now.”

Sicheng leaves Yuta’s surgery a bit shaken up. A bit of him feels at peace, a bit of him is still disturbed. His body feels incredibly light, although he swears he still can feel the press of the metallic blade against his skin, can sense Yuta’s focused gaze on him. It lingers behind his eyelids in a flowing memory. Sicheng can’t get rid of it. 

When he returns to his and Jaehyun’s apartment, he picks up a red paint tube, a paintbrush and sketches. 

“What’re you drawing?” Jaehyun asks over his shoulder. He looks at the colour splotches of a red form. 

“A rose.” 

Turns out, Jaehyun and Yuta are good friends. Yuta comes by rarely, but when he does, it’s for a while.

“Pretty boy!” Yuta exclaims. “Didn’t know you and Jaehyun were that close.”

“We are,” Sicheng says. “I didn’t know you and Jaehyun were friends, either.”

“You don’t know many things about me.” Yuta says. “But that makes getting to know each other more fun, don’t you think?”

Jaehyun greets Yuta with a hug. “I’m so glad you finally left your cave of a laboratory. Don’t you think it’s much nicer up here than breathing in the chemicals down there?”

Yuta laughs, “Our air is contaminated everywhere regardless. A chemical or two won’t ruin my already ruined respiratory system.”

“You’re so pessimistic.” Jaehyun frowns. 

Yuta shakes his head. “I’m merely realistic. Say, Sicheng, Jaehyun told me you draw. Do you do portraits?” He smiles bashfully. Sicheng is a bit taken aback by his straightforwardness. 

“Someday, I will,” he replies. “Right now, I don’t know that much.”

Yuta looks into his eyes, “You’re an uncertain one.”

Sicheng shrugs. Jaehyun leaves them be to tend to his plants and to whisk up a dinner, and once Sicheng is left alone with Yuta he feels an uncomfortable atmosphere settle around them. Or maybe he’s the only one being uncomfortable. Yuta looks blinding as ever. Sicheng really likes his smile. His lack of filter, though? Not so much. 

Somehow, Sicheng and Yuta start meeting often from there on.

It happens as a pure coincidence. While walking through the city late at night without any purpose, the sky pitch-black above him, he spots a bleak of red hair across the street of him, and the dots connect together. 

“Yuta?” Sicheng asks, walking up to him. Yuta isn’t wearing his lab coat. Nor it he wearing his hair up. 

“Pretty boy,” Yuta turns to him, arms in the pockets of his coat, “hey there.”

“What are you doing here? It’s quite late.”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

Sicheng shrugs. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Yuta nods in understanding. “How are you finding your new life?”

“It’s different.” Sicheng replies. He can’t find the right words to describe how he feels about it. He’s not sure himself. 

“Do you miss it? Your old one?”

Sicheng looks down. “I miss my family.”

Yuta smiles, solemn. “Ah. Family.” He doesn’t say anything more. 

The wind blows softly, wraps Sicheng in a cold blanket. He shivers. It’s getting cold. Sicheng looks at the black sky. He wishes a moon would look back at him. “I feel lost,” Sicheng then says, voice quiet, still looking at the sky. Yuta turns his attention on him, dark brown eyes softening. 

“I know that feeling well.” Yuta replies. He gives Sicheng a small pat on the shoulder, friendly and kind, and Sicheng takes notice of how warm his hand is in the coldness of the night. Yuta gives him a bright smile. 

“If you ever feel lonely, you can come to me.”

The next time they meet, it’s in a convenience store. Yuta has his arms full of shopping bags in between aisles of canned food, looking like he’s struggling to pick all of them up together. Sicheng decides to help him.

“Are you alright?” Sicheng asks, then almost gasps at the weight of the bags. “Do you have bricks in there or something?”

Yuta laughs, humoured. “It’s sweet of you to help me,” he says, then picks up the heavy bags with his android arm as if they weight like feathers. “But I’m just fine, thanks.”

Sicheng says, “Oh, okay.” 

A smile seems to never leave Yuta’s face. “Would you walk back with me?”

Sicheng insists on taking at least one grocery bag, and Yuta allows him to. 

“What a lovely day,” Yuta says, in high spirits as always, once they’re outside. The sky is grey.

Sicheng follows a familiar route to Yuta’s surgery. Yuta takes the bag from his arms, tells him to sit down. “Make yourself at home,” he says. Sicheng nods but doesn’t. He sits like he sits everywhere else: posture straight, shoulders tense, uncomfortable, in his surroundings, in his own skin. 

Above the surgery, Yuta’s apartment is messy. There are papers lying around everywhere, either crumpled or torn, along with clothes thrown onto the ground, there are cans, tubes, boxes, random miscellaneous things, and Sicheng is a bit alarmed. How can one live in such a mess? Back up, mess wasn’t allowed. People had to have cleaned apartments, had to wear ironed clothes, had to have their hair combed and straightened. And then there’s Yuta, who lives in a messy place, who wears crumpled lab coats and has unruly hair. Yuta, who shows so much emotion on his face, whose smiles can rival the brightest star, Yuta, who is so different from what Sicheng considers the norm, society considered the norm, and Sicheng is so intrigued. 

Yuta returns with a mug of tea in his hand, puts it on the coffee table. “Sorry my place is in such a mess,” he says, “I didn’t think I’d be having any guests over for about at least ten years.”

Sicheng says, “It’s okay.” Yuta sits next to him, awfully close. He’s smiling again. Why is he smiling? What is his reason to smile so often? Sicheng doesn’t understand. People smile when things are going well. But life in their city can’t possibly go well, so Sicheng really doesn’t understand. He doesn’t remember the last time he smiled. Maybe it was at his graduation. Maybe it was when his father complimented his drawing all those years ago. Maybe it wasn’t. He doesn’t remember. 

Yuta hands Sicheng a dessert. It looks sad. “Try it,” Yuta says, “It’s good. Goes well with the bitter tea.”

“Did you bake it yourself?”

“Yeah,” Yuta laughs, “believe it or not, my robot arm makes a good whisk.”

Sicheng takes a careful bite. The texture is smooth but the taste is odd. Or maybe Sicheng just hasn’t eaten many desserts in his life, since they weren’t sold or produced anywhere, since food isn’t an emotion. Sicheng doesn’t know what’s to say.

“Do you like it?” Yuta asks.

“I don’t know.” Sicheng says honestly.

Yuta laughs again. “That’s alright. It’s a new recipe I’ve been working on. I’m trying to substitute some natural ingredients that are not used now for obvious reasons, such as eggs and sugar, to artificial ones. Don’t know if I’m succeeding though.”

“Sorry,” Sicheng says, abashed, “I don’t eat much cake.”

“It’s okay.” Yuta pats his shoulder again. Yuta’s touch is gentle. “No one really does in this time of day and year.”

The third time they see each other, it’s in Jaehyun’s apartment again. Jaehyun is out searching for a job, and Sicheng doesn’t expect for the keys to rattle in the door sooner than expected. It’s Yuta who greets him at the door, eyes wide. “Oh, hey, pretty boy,” he says, “Sorry I came unannounced. Is Jaehyun at home?”

“No,” Sicheng shakes his head. “He’s out until the evening.”

“Oh, that’s a shame. I guess I’ll come by later?”

Yuta turns around to leave, but Sicheng stops him with a hand on his wrist. 

“Wait,” he says, “Don’t go get.”

Yuta smiles, bemused, “What’s up?”

Sicheng takes a deep breath. “You asked me if I do portraits.”

“I believe I have.”

“I can draw you,” Sicheng scratches the back of his neck. “If you want.”

Yuta claps his hands, overjoyed. “Marvellous!”

Jaehyun comes back to a lively apartment. He sees Yuta sit on a stool, and Sicheng across of him, figure hunched behind an easel. Sicheng is painting. 

“Yuta! Sicheng!” He exclaims. Then peers over Sicheng’s work. “Oh, wow,” Jaehyun breathes out. “This is really good.”

“Really?” Yuta makes a move to stand up. But Sicheng pushes him back down. 

“Don’t move.” He says. “I’m not quite done yet.”

Yuta pouts, but listens. “Jaehyun, how was your interview?”

“Good!” Jaehyun says. “I got the job.”

“Good job.” Yuta says, then speaks to Sicheng. “Are you done yet?”

“Almost,” Sicheng whispers, swirling his paintbrush in paint. He’d like to think he’s getting the hang of traditional art. He hopes Yuta likes the drawing; Sicheng hasn’t drawn many people in his life. He remembers he once had to draw a portrait of the Confederate for his class, and that’s about all of his experience. 

“I think I’m done.” Sicheng says then, and Yuta jumps up in excitement, walks up to Sicheng and Jaehyun and looks at the canvas. Sicheng stands up to make more space for him. He fiddles with the hem of his shirt, a bit nervous of Yuta’s reaction.

“Wow.” Yuta says after a while of staring. His eyes are wide and his lips are parted. “I think I fell in love a little.”

Jaehyun cackles, palm hitting Yuta’s back. “With a drawing of yourself?”

“No,” Yuta smiles at Sicheng. Sicheng has to squint because it’s too bright for him. Yuta puts a hand around his waist, and Sicheng flushes. Jaehyun doesn’t notice anything. 

Their dynamic shifts after that. Sicheng realizes he starts feeling something towards Yuta, but he can’t pinpoint exactly what. Yuta’s hugs make him feel things he hasn’t felt before, his subtle touches make Sicheng’s skin form goosebumps, make his stomach churn. Sicheng is a novice at feelings, at human contact, so he doesn’t know how to reciprocate. Doesn’t know how to react. Jaehyun jokingly called him cold once, and his words stuck in Sicheng’s head like a broken record.

“Yuta, am I a cold person?” He asks on a chilly night. It must be nearing autumn, Sicheng assumes, if his knowledge of season change is as good as it used to be.

“No,” Yuta says, shaking his head, “You’re not. You’re just more reserved. You show what you feel in different, subtle ways.” 

Sicheng sighs, unconvinced. 

“Pretty boy,” Yuta says, voice soft, “trust me that you’re not. Your heart is anything but cold.”

Vaguely, Sicheng wonders whether Yuta even knows his name, but his words overshadow Jaehyun’s, and it makes Sicheng feel warm. Somehow, Yuta makes him feel warm, unknowingly he melts off the ice around Sicheng’s edges. Sicheng likes the warmth, but he’s also afraid of it. 

Yuta kisses him that day, just a simple press of lips against his cheek, short and simple, but Sicheng is left breathless. When Yuta smiles shyly at him after it, Sicheng’s axis shifts, and suddenly he’s falling into the unknown, and he’s so terrified, so he forces himself back up. 

Feelings are a funny thing, the more Sicheng realizes he likes Yuta, the more he ignores them. Pushes them down into a bottomless pit, and hopes for them to never resurface ever again.

Fear is even funnier. Sicheng pretends that their talk didn’t happen. That their relationship isn’t developing. He’s good at being oblivious. All because he’s afraid. 

But System, is Yuta making it hard for him.

It seems like Yuta wants him to crack. He is touchy with Sicheng, flirty with Sicheng, acting like they’re something more than Sicheng allows them to be. Sicheng doesn’t know if Yuta sees right through him when Sicheng rejects his advances, but at this point too afraid to ask. If Yuta stops, it would be better for them both. No love – no heartbreak. But Yuta doesn’t stop. And Sicheng is lost all over again. 

“Do you even know what my name is?” Sicheng asks later, while visiting Yuta’s surgery. He had found Yuta half alive on his couch, and in worry and panic he shook Yuta until the latter opened his eyes awake. _I was sleeping_, Yuta had said, voice slurred with sleep, but his lips were curled upwards in amusement. “Were you worried about me, pretty boy?” That caused Sicheng to sighs out in both relief in frustration, and then ask the question. 

“Of course I do.” Currently, Yuta has his head on Sicheng’s shoulder, playing with Sicheng’s fingers. Sicheng indulges him, indulges himself.

“Then why don’t you ever say it?”

“Now where’s the fun in that, pretty boy?” Yuta asks eyes sparkling.

Sicheng says after a minute of silence. “You should take care of yourself better.”

Yuta laughs. “I honestly don’t know how.”

Sicheng realizes that Yuta maybe, just maybe, is just as lost as him, in the wide space of the Lower, in the vastness of the universe. Maybe Sicheng was never alone all along, maybe that’s why Yuta told him he’d be there for him if he ever felt lonely. Sicheng rests his head atop of Yuta’s. Yuta squeezes their fingers together. 

Sicheng learns that Jaehyun’s father is actually the Confederate. It comes off as a surprise, as something unexpected, and Sicheng’s heart stops. He never would have _thought_ in a million years that the two were related.

“Are you… Serious?”

Jaehyun nods, expression grim. He has his hands clutching his hair in frustration. “Sicheng, I hate this so much. I him and the System so much. I hate this dictatorship, and I hate this country. And I hate myself.”

“Oh, Jaehyunnie,” Sicheng wraps Jaehyun into a warm embrace. “You’re not at fault here at all,” he comforts, “you’re not your father, you’re a wonderful person and friend, and I’m very thankful to you.”

Jaehyun sighs deeply. “I wish I could do something about this. Like throw a revolution or something. _Hey!_ We can throw a revolution!”

Sicheng laughs awkwardly, “You’re insane.”

“No.” Jaehyun’s face darkens. “If people managed to create the System in the first place, we can destroy it. We are all human, after all. No one had dared to go against him in masses, right? Right. If we go against him in numbers, if we make the citizens of this city wake up, then maybe we can make a difference.” Jaehyun is not sparkling. He turns to Sicheng. “Are you in?”

They hold the first meeting in Yuta’s surgery. It’s only them three for now, but it’s alright. Yuta is all too enthusiastic about overthrowing tyrants who abuse their power, so he easily engages in conversation about the core of the System and how it operates. 

“No one knows how the System works, right?” Yuta asks, arms folded and tapping his feet. He’s staring down at the mind map Jaehyun sketched in the simply lit room. Sicheng is standing across of them.

“One person surely does,” Jaehyun says. “It was implemented two hundred years ago, and only one person has been alive for that long.”

“Your father,” Sicheng breathes out.

“Exactly,” Jaehyun says. “But growing up, he’s never told me anything about it. I know nothing. And we can’t get any information out of him.”

Yuta turns another light on. “So how exactly do you plan on taking action? By force, the old fashioned way?” He makes finger guns and raises his eyebrows in question.

Jaehyun thinks. “That might be actually a good idea. If we get rid of the Confederate, we might change everyone’s ways.”

Yuta claps his hands. “And that should be enough for today. Now shoo, I have experiments to do.” He waves Sicheng and Jaehyun. Jaehyun leaves with a face but Sicheng stays behind for not long.

“You do realize, the chances of us getting killed in this adds up to ninety nine percent?” He asks.

Yuta nods. “But there’s this teeny tiny one percent of hope left, right? And besides, if I die, then I die, but my one life is nothing compared to thousands of lives of future generations who’d be forced to live in fear and oppression for as long as the Confederate is alive. Think about it, Sicheng.”

Yuta has a point, Sicheng realizes. His selflessness amazes Sicheng sometimes. Sicheng likes that aspect about him. 

Their meetings continue, once or twice a week. They call them meetings for formalities, but truthfully they’re just discussions. Hang out sessions, that usually end up with Jaehyun blowing up Yuta’s potions and Yuta chasing him out of the apartment. 

Sicheng thinks, as far fetched as the uprising sounds for now, hope always dies last.

Sicheng gets his first tattoo when he turns twenty-two.

It happens unexpectedly. In a café he makes small talk with a barista who has tattoos on her wrists, and Sicheng can only stare at it. It’s so pretty.

“Do you like it?” the barista shyly asks.

Sicheng nods. He finds it very pretty. It’s weird to him, because tattoos are seen as something vulgar, are frowned upon in his society, and yet the girl’s design is so simple and elegant Sicheng can’t help but impulsively want something like that on his arm, too. 

“Where’d you get it?”

“From the tattoo parlour down the street! Are you thinking of getting one?”

“Maybe,” Sicheng replies. He thanks the barista for the coffee and goes down the street, and it’s not long before he spots a glowing sign with a needle. He steps inside. 

The interior is simple, and Sicheng likes simplicity. He finds a person sitting by the the registration desk, sketching something on a piece of faux paper.

“Hi,” Sicheng clears his throat.

The person looks up at him, eyes widening for a split second, a smile blooming. “Hey there! Can I help you?”

Sicheng looks at the name tag. It reads Kun. “Yes, uh, I’m looking for tattoo designs.”

“That’s great,” Kun says, closing his sketchbook and standing up to talk to Sicheng eye to eye. “Do you have anything in mind?”

Sicheng thinks. “Something related to art?”

Kun rummages through some files and then hands Sicheng one with an array of various designs. “I got you.”

For the first time, Sicheng spends his birthday however he wants. His skin burns but he feels thrilled. He broke the law today, and he feels great about it. There’s something that bursts inside of him at the feeling of going against the System, of rebelling against his parents and society. It’s a little fire of excitement and exhilaration that awakens inside of him, one that Sicheng never knew existed. The corners of his lips find slowly their way up. 

The tattoo is a simple symbol of a paint brush and a paint stroke. Just a thin line, done in one motion, but Sicheng loves it and the simple meaning behind it. He feels kind of _happy_, actually. 

“Smiling suits you a lot, pretty boy,” Yuta says upon seeing Sicheng later that evening. “What’s the occasion?”

Sicheng didn’t realize he was smiling. How good smiling felt. He shows him the tattoo. “This.” 

Yuta traces it with his fingers. Sicheng’s skin burns because of the touch. “It’s lovely,” he says. Sicheng blushes. “You’re lovely.”

Sicheng blushes again. He doesn’t dare speak. Yuta is so straightforward with his compliments and Sicheng doesn’t know what to make out of it. Again, he doesn’t know how to respond. He only makes a face.

“Is there a reason why you got it so suddenly?” Yuta asks.

Sicheng shrugs. “It’s my birthday today,” he says.

Yuta gasps, “Oh, my, happy birthday!” He gives Sicheng a bone crushing hug, one in Sicheng which catches himself laughing for the first time in years. When Yuta pulls back, he muses, “I completely forgot it was my own birthday two days ago. We should celebrate together. I’ll give you a present.”

Sicheng stares at the way Yuta’s eyes are like half moons when he smiles. “But I don’t know what to give you in return.”

Yuta drops his voice, smile lopsided, “You could give me a kiss.”

Sicheng shakes his head in laughter even though his heart burns. “Ask for something realistic.” 

Yuta tsks, “Well, it was worth a shot.” He plays it off, but Sicheng notices the faintest outlines of disappointment in Yuta’s expression. Sicheng wonders whether Yuta can notice his frights, wants, and his internal debates, too. 

He’d love nothing more than to feel Yuta’s lips against his own, he had dreamt about it many times, and the fact that his fantasies are within an arm’s reach makes Sicheng almost break his façade. But the thoughts of Yuta not being serious, of the Party finding them and forcing them apart over take him, and he can only give Yuta a sympathetic smile in return. 

The next day, Kun invites him to his place again, and Sicheng returns home with a job and with another tattoo. 

His new tattoo is of a fragment of a painting he saw years ago in an arts museum when he was a little child. He drew the design himself, and Kun painted it on him with the words, “Soon you’ll be able to tattoo yourself.” Sicheng was looking forward to that.

After another month, three more tattoos grace the sleeves on his arms. They’re all of his design, from his own imagination, and Sicheng never would have thought that inking his own body would rekindle his creativity. He’s nothing but thankful. The needle doesn’t hurt his skin anymore, and the more tattoos Sicheng gets, the better he feels. 

The newest tattoo piques Jaehyun’s attention. “Whoa,” he says, looking at the outline of a rose on Sicheng’s bicep. “This one is so pretty. I love it.”

Sicheng smiles. He finds out that he loves to smile. “Thanks.”

Yuta likes it as well. “Is there any meaning behind it?” he asks.

Sicheng shakes his head. “Nope.”

Maybe he’ll tell him someday. Maybe he won’t. 

Sicheng and Kun get acquainted fast. Kun is also a runaway – technically, all of them are – and they bond over that. Once, Kun overhears Sicheng talk to Yuta on the phone about their meeting, and it piques Kun’s interest.

“What were you talking about?”

Sicheng drops his voice, comes clean. “Don’t find it weird. But my friend wants to throw a revolution against the government.”

“Whoa.” Kun says, humoured but also not. “That’s quite ambitious. How are you planning to do it?”

Sicheng shrugs. “We’re still in discussion.”

Kun smiles, “I think you’d like a gunmaker on your team.”

That’s now Kun joins their little circle. Turns out, Kun worked at a military base before he fled from the government. “I’m an engineer,” he explains, “I’ve always had a passion for construction and creating, and so here I am. I know how to create ancient objects humans used for murder during the Nuclear War, before the Technological revolution. They were called guns, and I can assemble and disassemble any possible gun. I know my stuff. I think you’d need a gun or two to put down the Confederate, wouldn’t you guys agree?” Kun smiles at the sweetly, but Sicheng is terrified. Kun is kind, Kun is sweet, and he looks innocent, but Sicheng realizes he’s anything but.

A week later, Jaehyun’s coworker, Ten, joins them, and Sicheng truly then realizes how dangerous some people from the Lower may be. Ten is an undercover assassin – the highest form of criminal in their society. A sort of criminal that is punished by death. He’s short, but quick on his feet, his eyes are sharp and cat-like, his expression is always stoic. He’s not here to have fun, he’s here for business. 

“It’s either kill or get killed in this world,” Ten says. “And I prefer the former.”

His profession aside, Ten is an amiable person. He’s fun to talk to, and when he’s not in his “work mode”, he’s all smiles and laughter. However, Ten and Kun don’t get along very well. At first it’s unnoticeable, as Kun and Ten only exchange polite hellos to each other, but then their tension gets more prominent. It seems like something happens between them one night, because from then on Ten is always trying to get under Kun’s skin, make him annoyed, for whatever wicked reason, but Kun never falters. Secretly, Sicheng thinks they would make a great pair. A gunmaker and an assassin. He laughs to himself at their positions. 

So far, they’re five. But their number is growing. 

Months fly by as fast as the wind blows, and before he knows it, Sicheng has already lived two years in the Lower. He’s not a stranger to the city anymore; he knows it like the back of his palm, knows everyone who lives in it, and he feels alright. His arms are adorned by tattoos from wrist to shoulder and his walls are full of his paintings, and everything’s just fine. Except when it isn’t. It gets lonely. Really lonely. Sicheng feels waves of homesickness, waves of discomfort and longing, waves of guilt for leaving his family behind and living without worries apart from them, and Yuta is always there, arms around him, whispering comforting words into his ear. 

Sicheng is still in love with Yuta. And he still won’t say it. 

He’s still working in the tattoo parlour, too, alongside Kun. Ten is a frequent visitor in their store, mostly to pester the latter out of his mind.

“You’re a tattoo artist, why don’t you have any tattoos on your body?” Ten asks, eyes mischievous.

“Go away,” Kun shoos him out. “I’m busy.”

“No.” Ten says. “Tell me.”

Kun sighs and turns to Sicheng. “Can you close up the shop for me tonight?” He asks. “I have to run some errands.”

“No problem.” Sicheng replies. 

Kun puts on his outdoor wear, and makes way to leave the parlour. Ten follows him around like a shadow, questioning, pouting, “Why won’t you tell me?”

The shop without them is quiet. Sicheng focuses on his designs, and then he hears the bell chime. He looks up. 

“Jaehyun?” 

“Hey,” Jaehyun says.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Sicheng says, a bit dumbfounded. 

“I know, right?” Jaehyun laughs, “But I’m actually here for business. I want to get a tattoo.”

“Leave it all to me.” Sicheng says, as if he’s been waiting for such a moment to come for the longest time. He carefully etches the line art of a peach blossom on the side of Jaehyun’s neck, behind his ear, and after he finishes, Jaehyun is blooming with happiness. 

Jaehyun is going through a phase of changes, it seems, because a few days later he’s contemplating on trying something new again. 

“I’m thinking about going pink.” Jaehyun says. “Do you approve?”

“Yes. Totally.” Sicheng agrees. He tries to imagine Jaehyun with cotton pink hair. He’d look pretty.

He looks at his own raven black hair.

“I’d like to go silver myself.”

Jaehyun comes back to their apartment with cotton candy pink hair, overjoyed, and says, “I met such a handsome man today. You have no idea.” Sicheng laughs. He really doesn’t.

“White suits you.” Yuta smiles, pressing a kiss to Sicheng’s cheek instead of a greeting. 

“I didn’t ask.” Sicheng shrugs him off. He’s embarrassed, but high key glad Yuta likes the hair colour. He loves Yuta’s compliments. Lives for them. Yearns for them. And Yuta always gives them to him, for free, for nothing in return, and Sicheng wishes he could accept them so easily. 

“I know you silently did.” Yuta squishes his cheeks. 

“How can you read me like an open book?”

It’s a genuine question. 

“Dunno. Sometimes it’s hard to read you, though,” Yuta lowers his hand to caress Sicheng’s face, whispering, “Most of the time I don’t know what you’re thinking about.”

Sicheng is torn between relief and the opposite. He _wants_ Yuta to know that he wants him, but at the same time he doesn’t. It’s complicated. Sicheng doesn’t know why it has to be so complicated. 

“Sometimes I don’t know myself.”

Eventually, Sicheng moves out. He finds a small apartment closer to his second job as a bartender, and relocates there. His new place is spacious and the view is nice, but he already misses Jaehyun’s company. Yuta comes by when he isn’t busy, and Jaehyun does, too. Sometimes Kun cooks for him, sometimes Ten is there to eat all of the food Kun cooked. It’s nice. Comfortable. Sicheng wouldn’t have it any other way. 

He notices Jaehyun becomes enamoured with a certain person, and he feels slightly jealous. At how Jaehyun is so easy about opening up to someone, at how he’s so carefree about his feelings, not worried about anything and just living – feeling – in the moment. He wishes he could be like that with Yuta. 

Sicheng sees them flirt in the bar. It’s a bit awkward, but also cute. For a second he puts himself and Yuta in their place. Would Yuta ask him to dance, too? Would he buy him a drink? Would Yuta look at him like Sicheng holds the universe in his eyes?

Sicheng pauses. Yuta already does that. He’s always done that, and upon realizing that Sicheng wants to cry. He leaves the bar and walks quickly to Yuta’s place. He has to see Yuta tonight. His heart wants to.

The lights in Yuta’s surgery are on, as usual, and Sicheng uses his spare key to unlock the front door. He finds Yuta in his room, writing formulas messily. Yuta nearly jumps back when he notices Sicheng’s presence.

“Christ, you scared me,” Yuta says, a hand over his chest. Sicheng cracks a smile. 

“Is something up?”

“You’re not sleeping.” Sicheng states.

“You aren’t either.”

“I had a shift. You should sleep.”

Yuta huffs, “I’m busy.”

“Yuta, you can’t go to sleep at eight in the morning, or not sleep at all, it’s not healthy.”

“I know,” Yuta says, “But if I don’t prove this theory, then who will?”

“It can wait until tomorrow now, can’t it?”

Yuta puts the pen down. “Fine. I’ll go. In a bit.” 

“Promise me,” Sicheng says, firm. 

Yuta blows him a kiss as a promise, and Sicheng moves to the side of the door as if to avoid it, and Yuta laughs. Sicheng still adores the way Yuta laughs. Still adores Yuta’s smile, his android arm, his messy hair, his loud voice and bash personality. He wants to tell Yuta that, but instead he only whispers a soft quiet _Goodnight_ and leaves. 

Sicheng looks up at the night sky. It’s starless. 

Several days later he’s working at the bar stand, when Yuta comes inside, flaming red hair in a disarray, goggles dangling off his neck, and orders a double espresso. 

“Don’t you have a coffee machine at your surgery?” Sicheng cocks an eyebrow almost accusingly. Yuta smiles at him, unfazed. His smile seems brighter than usual, or maybe it’s because Sicheng hasn’t seen Yuta for a couple of days. He’s missed him. Yuta plops onto a hovering stool and spins in a few circles before stopping. 

“I do,” Yuta says mischievously, “but I haven’t seen you in a while, and I missed you, and you make pretty great coffee.”

Sicheng chuckles lightly. “You know I’m terrible at making coffee.”

Yuta props his chin onto his android hand, lips curled upwards like a cat’s. “Terrible coffee from a hot barista takes away the attention from the taste.” He winks.

Sicheng scrunches up his nose in displeasure. “Cut it out or I’ll rip off your only human arm.”

“Ohhh, that’s sexy.”

“I’m kicking you out.” Sicheng threatens and Yuta laughs, watching him start up a run down coffee machine. It grunts and creaks and Sicheng confused at how it’s still working after centuries. 

“Okay, so,” Sicheng says after the machine starts grumbling and releasing steam from all edges. It really is ancient. “We have: water based coffee, black water based coffee, and very black water based coffee. Which one you’d like?”

“Give me the strongest one.” Yuta props another hand under his chin. His cheeks are squished, making him look less older than he actually is, less tired. 

Sicheng nods but frowns. “Are you going to stay up again? Actually, when have you last slept? Your eye bags are bigger than our chance of surviving without getting arrested.”

Yuta is amused by the comparison, “Aw, is my pretty boy worried?”

Sicheng almost stills at the old nickname, but he only sighs, and Yuta expects him to make a grimace but the former only says, “You know I am.”

Yuta blushes for a millisecond upon the response but then regains his composure and the smile that blooms on his face makes Sicheng’s heart skip a beat. He shakes the feeling off, forcing his heart to stop beating so fast. He fails. 

“You shouldn’t be. I’m fine. I slept for, like, the whole day yesterday. Jaehyun thought I died or something. I mean – I wish – but... By the way, what’s up with him? He looks like someone stomped on his favourite plant.”

Yuta points at Jaehyun, who is sitting a few bar stools away from them, looking down at his blueish drink with an expression of a kicked puppy. 

“He’s lovesick. Didn’t you hear, that fool fell for a man from the Higher,” Sicheng snickers. Yuta laughs by throwing his head back and clapping his metal hand onto the bar table. It leaves a huge dent in the faux wood. 

“For real? Why does that sound exactly who Jaehyun would fall for?” He wheezes. 

Jaehyun hears the commotion, slides up closer to them and groans. “Rude! That’s very rude! Doyoung is not like those brainwashed pricks.”

“Oh,” Sicheng smirks, “Doyoung, huh?”

“Shut up.” Jaehyun flushes.

“I saw you dancing together a few nights ago.” Sicheng plasters a serious expression and bends a little, taking out a hand and mimicking Jaehyun’s voice. “Doyoung, would you let me have this dance.” He mocks. The arm he extended is directed towards Yuta and the latter takes it, also to tease Jaehyun. Yuta flutters his eyelashes to mimic Doyoung, and for a second Sicheng pretends that this is real. He invites Yuta for a dance, Yuta accepts and smiles; he kisses Yuta under the fluorescent lights. Sicheng snaps back. 

“Stoooop!” Jaehyun buries his face in his palms, ears red and hot. “That’s eavesdropping”. 

Sicheng ignores his friend’s whines, finally hands Yuta his pitch black coffee. The latter flashes him a smile as a thanks, which Sicheng returns. Yuta has the kindest eyes. 

“Be careful, Jaehyunnie,” Sicheng warns, moving on to clean the bar. “The Higher’s people are dangerous. What if he’s working for the Party?”

“Nah,” Jaehyun waves him off, laughing. “Fat chance.”

Sicheng shrugs. “Suit yourself. ‘M just saying.”

“I know, Sicheng.” Jaehyun reassures. “Believe me when I say he’s different.“

Yuta scoffs. “Of course that’s what he is. What all of them are. At first glance. Then they go ahead and stab you in the back.”

Jaehyun mopes ever further. “Please stop. I’m already sad that we have an indefinite future.”

“Indefinite future? What are you, in love already?”

Sicheng touches Yuta’s shoulder gently. “Enough. Jaehyun’s a big boy, he knows the risks he’s taking. All of us do.”

“I’m baby,” Jaehyun says quietly, sipping on his drink. Sicheng almost coos.

Yuta deflates. “Alright. Fine. You really are bad at coffee, by the way.” He traps Sicheng’s hand in his, and the latter doesn’t have the heart in him to shake it off. 

Yuta intertwines their fingers for a second and Sicheng smiles back. “Can’t say I haven’t warned you.”

After his late night shift, Sicheng finally takes his apron off and closes up the bar. It’s four in the morning, an ungodly hour to be awake, but Sicheng’s used to it. He sighs, staring at the dull sky, the Sun hidden behind them for all of eternity. No matter where he looks, the ceiling above him is grey. He can see the outline of the Higher Level as if on even more greyer clouds, and shakes his head. That life is in the past now. 

“Heading home?” He hears a voice say. It belongs to none other than Yuta. Sicheng startles. 

“Yep. Why aren’t you sleeping? It’s dawn.”

“Was working on some formula. Lost track of time — same old same old.”

Sicheng nods. He fully knows Yuta can’t sleep well. 

“Let’s go to your place,” he offers. “I’ll make tea for you, tuck you into bed or something.”

“Are you gonna stay the night with me?” Yuta smirks, but his eyes are hopeful.”

“I could. I’m tired as hell. But! No funny stuff, okay?”

“Alright, no funny stuff, pretty boy,” Yuta puts his hands up in mock surrender, “Unless...?”

Sicheng hits him, but miscalculates and accidentally his fist lands on Yuta’s metallic arm instead, “Ouch!” He winces. 

Yuta giggles, then kisses Sicheng’s bruised fist. “The pain should subside now,” he says, “I’m a doctor. I know.” 

Sicheng groans. “My God! You’re so flirty.”

“Is that a bad or a good thing?”

Sicheng ponders for a moment. Good, because it means you’re still interested in me. Bad, because it means I have to keep turning down your advances. “I don’t know.”

They reach Yuta’s apartment slash surgery in no time, considering everything in Lower is quite close to each other. Sicheng makes Yuta a mug of tea, hot and green, while the other takes a bath, and true to his word, he slips under Yuta’s covers afterwards and lets his body relax when Yuta curls up to him. His robotic arm is icy cold against Sicheng’s skin but Sicheng doesn’t mind. He feels Yuta stroke his hair and press a soft kiss against his forehead, and then he drifts off. Sicheng doesn’t dream.

Sicheng wakes up feeling hot. He groggily opens his eyes to see what’s wrong, and sees Yuta cling to him like a koala. Sicheng’s not a fan of skin ship, but oddly with Yuta he’s okay with it, no matter how much he rejects Yuta’s advances when they’re in public. When they’re alone, it’s okay. It’s more than okay. His cheeks heat up. The way Yuta has his arm slung over his waist in a strong grip, face pressed into the crook on his neck – it’s so intimate. 

One side of him wants to savour this moment until Yuta wakes up, but the other wants to move away. The latter wins – wins, because the fear of eventually nice things ending scares Sicheng to no ends. It’s better not to start anything in order to not get hurt when it end, right? Sicheng has been sticking to that mentality for years now. It’s foolproof. Heartbreakingly so.

Sicheng struggles out of Yuta’s grip, but to his misfortune it only tightens. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Yuta asks, voice thick and heavy with sleep. Sicheng gulps.

“Um. Home.”

“Stay for breakfast.”

“Yuta,” Sicheng says, “let me go, please.”

“No.”

Sicheng huffs, “Excuse me?”

“I won’t.” Yuta’s inhuman arm forces Sicheng to turn around to face his way. “I’m not gonna let you go.”

Sicheng feels himself blush again. “That’s.. You can’t do that.”

Yuta’s voice is stern. He’s looking at Sicheng with unreadable eyes. “Why do you keep running away? From everything? From your past life in the Higher? From your jobs? From me?”

Sicheng’s head spins. What does Yuta know? What does Yuta know about his feelings? His fears? His past? Nothing. Yuta knows nothing, because Sicheng hasn’t told him anything. Yuta is just someone who helped him remove the chip from his body, someone who has weaved himself into Sicheng’s life and heart without an invitation, someone who stuck with Sicheng through thick and thin, someone who is always there for him, someone who makes Sicheng feel warmth and love and everything he’s never felt before, someone who became such a crucial and important part to Sicheng’s being, someone whom Sicheng loves irrevocably, and yet treats so wrongly. Sicheng blinks unshed tears away. “Why do you care?” He asks, voice shaking. 

Yuta wipes them away with his thumbs, expression soft, eyes itching to move closer than they already are, but refraining. “The answer’s obvious, baby. Quite obvious.”

“I don’t know,” Sicheng says, burying his face in Yuta’s chest. He knows the answer. “I don’t know anything anymore.”

“It’s okay, Sicheng,” Yuta whispers, hugging Sicheng more as if to prove – to himself, mostly – that he’s not intent on letting go, that Sicheng won’t go, “You’ll be fine. Both you and I.”

Sicheng desperately wants to believe that.

“So what’s going on between you and Yuta?” Jaehyun asks. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed, because I _have_. For the longest time, actually. I was waiting for you to speak up, but you never did. And it’s been actual _years_ and I still have to deal with both your and Yuta’s lovesick faces all the time. You have no idea how tired I am.”

Sicheng gulps. _I’m madly in love with him but my fear of abandonment is swallowing me whole. I don’t want to lose him no matter what, but I’m afraid. I won’t let myself love him openly and instead, I push him away. And by pushing him away so much I’m scared he’ll have enough and leave me for good. I can’t let myself accept Yuta’s love and be happy with him no matter how much I want to when my family might be living in misery in the Higher._ “There’s nothing.”

“Uh-huh.” Jaehyun says, one brow raised. “And the sky isn’t grey.”

“Technically, it’s blue.” Sicheng retorts.

“Don’t get all smart on _me_, mister. I know damn well which colour the sky is supposed to be, but in our reality it’s unfortunately grey. Now spill.” 

“There’s nothing.” Sicheng repeats. “Nothing at all.”

Jaehyun sighs. “Don’t make me force it out of you.”

Sicheng fiddles with his thumbs. “I’m being serious.”

Jaehyun’s eyes soften, “Sicheng, I am too. I know the way you look at Yuta, and I know the way Yuta looks at you. Like there’s no one else in the world.” 

“Yuta looks at me like that?”

“Don’t play dumb; I know you know he does.”

Sicheng smiles. “You’re smarter than you look.”

“_Hey!_,” Jaehyun says, “That was so uncalled for.”

Sicheng pinches Jaehyun’s cheeks, then asks, “Are you alright?” Jaehyun breathes out his worries. “Should I be honest?”

“Please be.”

“It’s Doyoung. I know he said he won’t return to the lower any more, but it’s already been two weeks, and I’m starting to think that he left once and for all.” Jaehyun looks visibly upset. Sicheng comforts him.

“Something tells me he’ll come back.”

“Do you think so?”

“I do.” Sicheng strokes Jaehyun’s hair, “Do you miss him that much?”

“Like Hell. I’ve known him for a small time, but away from him I feel so empty. You know what I mean.”

Sicheng nods. He does. “Don’t worry,” he whispers into Jaehyun’s hair, “He’ll come around.”

Sicheng turns out to be right. Two days later, a tall lean man dressed in monochrome walks into the bar and asks for Jaehyun. 

Sicheng connects the dots. “ What happened to saying that you won’t be returning?” He asks, amused by Doyoung’s expression.

“How do you know of that?”

Sicheng gives him a smirk. “I know everything.” He fiddles for a notepad and pen and scribbles Jaehyun’s address for Doyoung.

“Here.” Sicheng rips out the faux paper, and Doyoung takes it carefully. “He might come home very late,” Sicheng explains, “it depends on his shift to be honest, but that’s all I know.”

Doyoung looks at scribbles for a while, eyebrows furrowed. “Thank you.” He says in a small voice. “But I don’t know how to get there…”

“And your Device?”

“Left it at the Higher. Can’t risk anything.”

“Sneaky.” Sicheng says. He likes Doyoung. The man reminds him of how he used to be: proper, a bit scared, tense, but trying his best. He rips out another sheet from the notepad and draws directions. “It won’t take you long to reach his place. Maybe fifteen minutes or so.”

Doyoung takes the sheet and examines the map. He gives Sicheng a small smile. “Thank you again,” he says, before exiting the bar.

“Go on.” Sicheng says after him. “He’s been waiting!”

Yuta enters the bar moments later, expression curious. “Was that Doyoung?”

“The one and only,” Sicheng says, “Hopefully he won’t Jaehyun mope around anymore.”

“He looked determined,” Yuta says as he sits down on the bar stool. “A coffee, please.”

Sicheng mixes him an espresso. 

“Add vodka to that.” 

Sicheng laughs. “Hell no. You’re not dying on my watch.”

“I don’t want to be sober,” Yuta says tiredly, “But I need to be awake. I have so much to work on. But so little time.”

Sicheng frowns, “When have you last slept?”

Yuta thinks. “Three days ago maybe?” He says it like it’s nothing. Sicheng is furious. He angrily puts his arms down onto the bar stand with a thump. “Alright. That’s it. You’re living with me from now on.”

Yuta puts his hands up. “Whoa. What an unexpected development.”

“If you cant take care of yourself, I will. Move in your things by tonight.”

Yuta can’t even say anything, still evidently stunned, except for a nod. “Okay.”

In the evening, Sicheng’s apartment is twice as packed, and in a week, it becomes twice as messy. Yuta leaves bits and pieces of himself everywhere he goes, and Sicheng loves it. Forcing Yuta to sleep at a reasonable time and reminding him to eat three times a day is easier than Sicheng had initially expected, despite Yuta’s crankiness, but he isn’t complaining. Yuta can’t throw a fuss, especially because Sicheng is right. 

Jaehyun is surprised by the news. “So you and Yuta are living together now?”

Sicheng nods. “Yeah. So that he’d take care of himself.”

Jaehyun whistles. “Wow. So did you resolve your romantic and sexual tension? No more pining?”

Sicheng laughs. Almost bitterly. He shakes his head. “Nothing’s changed.”

Nothing has changed. But also a lot has changed. Sicheng gets to know more about Yuta’s habits, his mannerisms, and wow, living with a person is a completely different experience. His mom had always told him that you can’t know a person unless you live with them, and Sicheng can now say that he really knows Yuta. Can say that he still loves Yuta just as much, if not more.

It’s harder for Sicheng to control himself. Yuta is everywhere – on his mind, in his life, in his apartment, in his heart, and it’s so _hard_. They share a bed, and Sicheng wakes up to Yuta’s gorgeous face every morning; he goes to sleep with Yuta always by his side. Yuta does his calculations in Sicheng’s living room, and it’s so domestic and _nice_, Sicheng feels his resolve crumpling one by one, slowly melting off. But he’s still scared. He ignores his heart’s yearning in order to save himself from the indefinite future heartbreak. He wonders for how much longer he’ll last. Maybe for not long. Maybe until his last breath. Sicheng doesn’t know. 

Jaehyun whacks him in the head at that, with a frown and a, “You’re such an idiot. You’re only hurting yourself and Yuta, don’t you understand?”

Sicheng has nothing to say to him.

“Unbelievable!”

“Do you think it’s worth it?” Sicheng asks.

“What is?”

“Risking everything for a limited happiness? Opening up your heart knowing it can get crushed at any moment? Jumping head first into the unknown? Facing your fears?”

Jaehyun smiles like a man in love. “Definitely.”

Sicheng considers his words. The next time he sees Yuta, Yuta tells him how he had Ten and Kun come in to his surgery, how he removed their chips, how he freed them of the System. Sicheng remembers how Yuta had done the same for him three years ago. “Time really does fly, huh.”

Yuta gives him a nod. Years have passed, but Yuta looks the same. His hair is still red, still messy, his face is still as youthful, his smile is all the same. Sicheng looks at himself in the mirror. It looks to him as if he’s the only one who’s aged. Or maybe his silver hair makes him look old. 

“Does this hair colour suit me?”

Yuta squeezes Sicheng’s shoulder with his android arm. “Everything suits you.”

Sicheng sighs, “I’m being serious.”

Yuta puts his chin on Sicheng’s shoulder now, looks at him through the mirror. “I’m serious, too. I like it. All hair colours suit you.”

Sicheng pets Yuta’s hair. It’s long, almost shoulder length, and silky, and sometimes all Sicheng wishes to do is to braid it and weave roses into it, and then maybe he’d kiss Yuta’s forehead and his lips, and maybe Yuta would kiss him back. Sicheng realizes he’s staring. 

Yuta is looking at him with a questioning gaze, as if his eyes are asking _Are you doing to do it?_, and Sicheng almost gives in. Almost.

He boops Yuta’s nose with a sly smile. Yuta makes a face and turns away, and they leave it at that. Sicheng dyes his hair auburn. 

There are no major turning events that happen in Sicheng’s stable life at the Lower. He works at the tattoo parlour, at the bar, he draws in his free time, gossips with Ten, goes to the meetings, listens to Jaehyun ramble about the love of his life, until the said love of Jaehyun’s life walks into his bar with Johnny. Sicheng drops a glass he was holding as well as his heart. 

“J-Johnny?”

Johnny is different from what Sicheng remembers, but then again, it’s been nearly four years since they’ve last seen each other. He’s even taller, his shoulders are broader, his eyes are wiser. Sicheng missed him so, so much. 

“Sicheng, brother,” Johnny says, voice emotional. “My, how you’ve grown.”

In a daze, Sicheng picks up the broken glasses carefully, head spinning. A million thoughts run through his head. What is Johnny doing here? Is he going to scold Sicheng for running away? Will he turn him over to the Party? Will he hug him? Is Johnny safe? 

“What are you doing here? Oh, goodness,” he takes out his phone, dials Jaehyun’s number in a hurry and when Jaehyun picks up, he says, “Jaehyun, come to the bar right now.” Jaehyun says he’ll be there in a few and hangs up.

He sees Johnny extend his arms for a hug, but Sicheng only crouches down, close to hyperventilation. He should’ve called Yuta, too, but he didn’t want to bother him. He didn’t tell Yuta about Johnny, anyway. Johnny folds his arms back, and Sicheng wishes he could’ve dived into Johnny’s embrace and forget all his worries, but when a part of your past confronts your present, Sicheng finds himself rooted down in place, unable to move.

“Johnny, you shouldn’t be here.” Sicheng finally says after he stands up, eyes filled with worry to the brim. “It’s so dangerous here. Doyoung, you keep coming back, too. You shouldn’t. They’re going to find you.”

Sicheng speaks quietly, softly, and Johnny is evidently frowning, not knowing how to reply himself.

“Sicheng, pour us a drink, alright? A drink for yourself too. Let’s have a talk.”

Sicheng nods and mixes up three drinks with shaky hands, although his expression on the outside is calm. He’s trying so hard to compose himself. He sits on the hovering bar stool next to Johnny and Doyoung and he slides them their drinks. 

“Alright,” he sighs, “drink up.”

Johnny takes a careful sip. “This is good.” He says with a smile. “I never would’ve thought you’d go for tending drinks though. I remember drawing was your passion.”

“It still is,” Sicheng smiles proudly, almost wickedly. He relaxes himself and rolls up the sleeves up to his elbows, revealing toned arms that are decorated with colourful tattoos. Doyoung and Johnny look at them in awe.

“Did you…?” Doyoung asks, obviously staring.

“If you’re asking about the peach blossom behind Jaehyun’s ear, then yep, it’s all my job.” Sicheng flexes his muscles, proud. “What do you think?”

“It’s very pretty.” Johnny says, nodding. “But. Did you run away to get tattoos on yourself? Is that it?”

Sicheng’s stomach churns. “No, Johnny,” Sicheng says, sighing, “You don’t quite understand…”

In a moment Jaehyun appears next to them, gives Doyoung a kiss, and Doyoung melts against him. Sicheng’s stomach churns even more. 

“Jaehyun.” Doyoung breathes out.

“That’s me.” Jaehyun smiles a dimpled smile. “Sicheng. Johnny. What’s the occasion?”

“A family reunion,” Doyoung half whispers. Sicheng didn’t think he’d react to a family reunion this way. Nonetheless, Sicheng explains his reasons. He’s feeling many things at the moment, one of them being guilt. Yes, he ran away to save himself, but he left Johnny behind. It’s one of his biggest regrets. 

Johnny nods, “I understand. I’m not upset… I just… missed you so much. I took over Doyoung’s job and searched for you here for months but I just couldn’t find you anywhere. I was starting to lose hope. I did lose hope, if I were to be honest.”

Sicheng softens. “I missed you too.” He finds himself saying before his irrationality takes over. “I thought about going to the Higher many times, but it would’ve been unsafe for us both, so I refrained.” Sicheng couldn’t sleep countless night because the guilt was eating him up, he feared that something were to happen to his brother, their family, it’s mainly why Sicheng shut everyone out from his life, closed up his heart with ivy, because he’s scared, guilty, and powerless, and he would never forgive himself if he were to live a happy life when his family lived in unhappiness, their minds controlled and movements always recorded. He remembers Johnny had a girlfriend. He asks. “How are you and your girlfriend doing?”

Johnny grins and flashes a silver band sitting around his ring finger. “Just fine.”

Jaehyun lets out a gasp. “Dude! Congratulations!”

“Why, thank you.” Johnny is shining. Glowing. “Shall we celebrate?”

Sicheng smiles, almost in a dawning realisation. Johnny is doing just okay. His life is going well, and he looks happy, Johnny _is_ happy, so why won’t Sicheng finally let himself be happy, too? He makes up his mind, and after Johnny leaves with a hug, Sicheng walks, almost runs, to his apartment. Yuta opens the door with a smile, and Sicheng jumps into his arms, clings onto him like a lifeline. 

“Whoa,” Yuta says, supporting Sicheng’s weight with his robot arm. “What’s gotten into you?”

Yuta is dressed in simple pyjamas, hair let down, glasses on the top of his head, and Sicheng cups Yuta’s cheeks and kisses him square on the mouth. “I love you,” he says and kisses him again, “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Yuta looks up at him, smile unmatched. He really does rival the brightest starts in the universe. 

“I’ve always loved you, since you freed me from the System, since you told me I could always confide in you, since the portrait and the rose tattoo, since you kissed my cheek that autumn night, I’ve loved you unconditionally and secretly, and now I don’t want to hide my love for you anymore. I want you to know that you are loved and cherished, that you’re adored.”

Yuta spins Sicheng around in joy, presses him close, “I’ve waited for four years for you to say this.”

Sicheng feels his shirt dampen. He gently wipes away Yuta’s tears with his thumbs, kisses both of his closed eyelids. “I’ve been wanting to say it for four years, too.”

Yuta puts him down. He presses him chest to chest, takes a deep breath. His arms settle on Sicheng’s waist. “There were instances where I thought that you loved me back, but you were so hard to read. I was so unsure. Every time I made a step forward, you took two steps back.”

“I was scared, I’m sorry.” Sicheng says. He kisses Yuta, and tastes salt. “I’m so sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” Yuta whispers back. “Don’t think about what could’ve happened then, think about what’s happening now.” He angles Sicheng’s head more the side, slides his lips against Sicheng’s easily. Sicheng parts his lips in ecstasy, feels Yuta suck on his bottom lip lightly. With the amount of pent-up romantic frustration, Sicheng harshly takes control, slides his tongue into Yuta’s mouth. Yuta makes a soft noise at that, and Sicheng finds himself smiling. He never would have guessed how _good_ kissing Yuta would feel. How it makes Sicheng burst with love, overflow with feelings he hid from Yuta for so long. He pours his everything into the kisses.

Yuta squeezes Sicheng’s waist, and Sicheng’s hand fly up to Yuta’s hair. He cards through the locks softly, pulls Yuta closer, as close as one possibly can. Yuta’s chest is firm against him, his body is impossibly warm, save for the robot arm. Sicheng shivers when Yuta artificial arm caresses the back of his neck. He’s overwhelmed.

He undoes the first two buttons on Yuta’s shirt with difficulty, fingers shaking from how much force and want he’s licking into Yuta’s mouth with, like he can’t get enough of Yuta. Yuta’s gasps; his soft moans are music to Sicheng’s ears. Why did he deprive himself from this bliss? Sicheng kisses Yuta harder, corners him against a wall. Yuta looks out of breath when they part for air, chest heaving heavily, eyes half lidded, cheeks flushed. Sicheng really wants Yuta right this second. He takes off Yuta’s shirt hastily, urgently, roams his arms around Yuta’s toned torso, slim waist, firm muscles, admires his android arm. 

“I love you,” Sicheng whispers lowly as he kisses Yuta’s jaw, “So much.”

Yuta smiles. “I know you do. I know.”

Sicheng grabs Yuta’s wrist and pulls him to their bedroom. Yuta flops down onto the bed, and Sicheng hovers above him. Yuta looks so pretty under him. Sicheng kisses him again, and does so for the whole night, until he can’t feel his lips anymore, until he has Yuta squirming with every bite of Sicheng’s to his neck, until the morning’s light disturbs them, until he’s completely sure Yuta knows he loves him. 

Yuta murmurs a quiet _Stay_ with tired eyes when he has Sicheng curled beside him, Sicheng drawing circles on his exposed back. And Sicheng does just that. He won’t go anywhere. 

Not anymore. 

“I removed Doyoung’s chip today,” Yuta says when he comes home. He gives Sicheng a kiss on the lips. 

“About time,” Sicheng answers. “Do you think Jaehyun will drag him to our meetings?”

“Of course he will,” Yuta laughs, “we’re planning to attack soon; he’ll tell Doyoung sooner or later.”

When Sicheng enters Yuta’s surgery later that evening, about a hundred of people are packed in it. Their numbers have increasingly grown since three years ago, and it makes Sicheng stop in his tracks and think. People are willing to fight for a change, willing to put their life at stake for justice. No matter the outcome. Today, Jaehyun sets a date. For next week. Sicheng is going to either live next week, or die. It makes his blood run cold in tremor. Yuta puts his head on Sicheng’s shoulder, and Sicheng leans into him. He shyly takes Yuta’s palm in his and intertwines their fingers. He dreads of being apart from Yuta. 

Yuta kisses his cheek. “Don’t worry. We’ll be fine. In this life or next one, I’ll always love you.”

Sicheng sweats. “Don’t say that.”

Yuta runs his thumbs over Sicheng’s knuckles. “I’m only being realistic.”

Sicheng looks at him with worry, with fright. His voice is shaking. “Yuta, I’m scared. Can we not do this? Can we just run away, together, you and I? Live somewhere secluded in peace? I don’t want to think about the worst right now. Christ, I’m so scared, Yuta, I don’t want to lose you.”

Yuta kisses him again. “We have to do this. Next week, we’ll face our fears. And whatever happens, happens.”

Sicheng purses his lips in thought. A sixth sense tells him something’s going to go wrong.

It was right.

They get ambushed. Get forced to surrender, before they even had the chance to attack. Armed policemen barge into the Lower and terrorise their peace. Jaehyun gets taken away momentarily by three men, handcuffed and head downcast. It’s an unfair fight, it always has been, but Sicheng isn’t intent on giving up. Ten shines – he knocks out men left and right, tranquillises them in an instant. He and Kun have their bodies back to back, expressions concentrated and completely unfazed. The pistols they hold are lethal. 

Sicheng puts his arm in his coat, carefully takes out his own pistol and aims at the men with the shields. He shoots without mercy, but his arm is shaking. Yuta slides up next to him, “How are you holding up?”

Sicheng says, “Kind of struggling.”

Yuta laughs, directs his pistol at an approaching soldier and fires. “Relax your arm but tense your wrist. Grip the pistol with confidence. Be sure of where you fire. You’ll be just fine.”

Sicheng smiles at him. Ten had trained him to use pistols and how to shoot them, but in action it’s a whole different experience. Sicheng’s kind of thrilled, if he were to be honest. May the System bless survival instincts. 

For some time, they’re doing just fine. Their numbers match the one’s of the armed policemen, if not outnumber. Sicheng can’t feel his feet from how much he’s been running back and forth, can’t feel his arms because of the times he’s been holding them up, can’t hear the shouts and screams anymore, but most importantly, he can’t see Yuta anywhere. 

He finds Yuta cornered by into a wall by two men. His gun is lying on the ground and he has two pistols aimed to his head. Sicheng forgets how to breathe, because this is everything he’s ever feared. Without thinking, he sprints to the scene and barrels into one officer and knocks him down onto the ground. He quickly takes out another gun, one that was given to him for safety measures, and aims on the man’s head. When he shoots, a loud sound resonates, but he isn’t fazed, he turns and fires at the other man standing, sending him down, dead. 

He exhales. Yuta runs up to him, eyes wide and glassy. Yuta hits him on the head. “You idiot! You actual idiot!” He cries. “What were you thinking?”

Sicheng looks at him, exhales in relief. “You’re not hurt.” 

Yuta pulls Sicheng close, hugs him carefully. Sicheng sees Yuta’s shirt become stained with dark red. He pulls back. “Wait, you’re not hurt, are you?”

Yuta wipes away a stray tear, “Idiot.” He tears the bottom of his lab coat and wraps it around Sicheng’s arm. “It’s your blood.”

“Oh.”

Sicheng looks at where Yuta is bandaging his arm. The whole of it is bleeding onto the ground, and only now does Sicheng feel the sting.

“You got wounded,” Yuta breathes out. “How can you be so careless?”

“I don’t care,” Sicheng says dumbly. Numbly. “What matters is that you’re safe.”

Yuta kisses Sicheng’s forehead, presses his face to his chest. Sicheng tries to not think of the pain that paralyses his whole body. He hears Yuta’s beating heart, and nothing else matters to him.

Ten checks up on them seconds later. “Gosh,” Ten says, “You’ve got it bad.”

Sicheng cracks a smile. “I’m good.”

Yuta is frowning. “He’s so stupid.” He says to Ten, barely holding himself together. “Sicheng, I hate you so much.”

“You love me.”Sicheng tries to say, but groans in pain. There a puddle of blood underneath them, warm and dark. Sicheng can only breathe irregularly. 

“He’s losing a lot of blood,” Yuta says. “He won’t be able to get up like this.” 

Ten fires at an approaching policeman and turns his head back to them to say, “Can you get him somewhere quiet while I distract those assholes? You can treat him, right?” 

“Yeah,” Yuta says. Sicheng groans again. He feels his vision start to blur. 

“The Confederate has been shot!” A voice resonates throughout the whole hall. It’s as if time freezes, because not a sound is heard. Sicheng only hears his heartbeat slow down. He feels Yuta slip his hand into his before he blacks out. 

Sicheng wakes up in a haze. He feels sore and groggy all over the place. He squints his eyes at the bright lights that shine on him.

“You’re awake,” he hears Yuta’s voice. Yuta is sitting beside the bed he’s lying on, arms folded and head resting against them. He smiles. 

“What had happened?” Sicheng asks in a whisper, mouth dry. 

“You passed out from too much blood loss. Do you remember now?”

Sicheng jolts up at that. Right. He remembers Jaehyun getting dragged away, remembers the chaos and the fear he felt, he remembers seeing Yuta in danger and his arm hurting… He looks down at his left arm. Sicheng gasps. 

“Do you like it?” Yuta asks, smiling. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save yours, but I think this one suits you a lot. 

Sicheng moves around the prosthetic. It’s dark grey, it’s light, and it doesn’t feel abnormal. It’s just like Yuta’s. 

“Just as good as new,” Sicheng breathes out. He likes it. Really likes it. “You can’t cover that with tattoos though,” he laughs.

His intertwines his android fingers with Yuta’s ones. He doesn’t feel the coldness of Yuta’s arm anymore, because his is all the same. Yuta squeezes it tightly. “It’s okay, it’s just a limb.”

Sicheng finds himself laughing. “My rose tattoo was on it.”

“What’s so special about that tattoo?” 

“You.”

“Me?” Yuta points at himself. He’s grinning.

“Yeah. You’re my rose, Yuta. I thought it was obvious.”

Yuta kisses Sicheng square on the mouth, lovingly strokes his hair, speaking with a smile. “How are you feeling?” 

“I’m fine,” Sicheng says, “But I don’t know if Jaehyun is. Is he alive?”

“He is.” Yuta says. “Doyoung too. He killed the Confederate, did you know? Shot him right in the head.”

“And Kun?”

Yuta shakes his head bitterly. “They got him, too. All of them got brainwashed, unfortunately. Murdered, spiritually. Reset, like some machine.” 

Sicheng feels his chest tighten. “What will happen to us now?”

It’s Ten who answers him. 

He walks into Yuta’s and Sicheng’s apartment unceremoniously, crouches right beside Sicheng. “First, we rest. Then,” he smiles, lips outstretching into a grin. His eyes are gleaming.

“Then, we get them back.”


End file.
